We had been attracted to Dumfries chiefly because of its association
with Robert Burns, who spent the last years of his life in the town or
in its immediate vicinity. Our first pilgrimage was to the poet's tomb,
in St. Michael's churchyard. A splendid memorial marks the place, but a
visit to the small dingy house a few yards distant, in which he died,
painfully reminded us of his last years of distress and absolute want.
Within easy reach of Dumfries lie many points of interest, but as our
time permitted us to visit only one of these, we selected Caerlaverock
Castle, the Ellangowan of Scott's "Guy Mannering," lying about ten miles
to the south. In location and style of construction it is one of the
most remarkable of the Scotch ruins. It stands in an almost level
country near the coast and must have depended for defense on its
enormously thick walls and the great double moat which surrounded it,
rather than the strength of its position. The castle is built of
dark-brown stone, and the walls, rising directly from the waters of the
moat and covered with masses of ivy, are picturesque, though in a sad
state of disrepair. Bits of artistic carving and beautiful windows
showed that it was a palace as well as a fortress, though it seems
strange that the builder should select such a site. In common with most
British castles, it was finally destroyed by Cromwell, and the custodian
showed us a pile of cannon balls which he had gathered in the vicinity.
On one of the stones of the inner wall were the initials, "R.B.," and
the date, "1776," which our guide assured us were cut by Robert Burns;
and there are certain peculiarities about the monogram which leave
little doubt that it was the work of the poet. From the battlements of
the castle the old man pointed to a distant hill, where, he told us, the
home of the Carlyles had been for many years and where Thomas Carlyle,
who was born at Ecclefechan, lies buried. Within a few miles of Dumfries
is Ellisland Farm, where Robert Burns was a tenant for several years,
and many of his most famous poems were written during that period. And
besides, there were old abbeys and castles galore within easy reach; and
glad indeed we should have been had we been able to make the Station
Hotel our headquarters for a week and devote our time to exploring. But
we were already behind schedule and the afternoon found us on the road
to Ayr.
A little more than half the distance from Dumfries to Ayr the road runs
through the Nith Valley, with river and forest scenery so charming as to
remind us of the Wye. The highway is a splendid one, with fine surface
and easy grades. It passes through an historic country, and the journey
would consume a long time if one should pause at every point that might
well repay a visit. A mile on the way is Lincluden Abbey, in whose
seclusion Burns wrote many of his poems, the most famous of which, "The
Vision of Liberty," begins with a reference to the ruin:
"As I stood by yon roofless tower
Where wall flowers scent the dewy air,
Where the owlet lone in her ivy bower,
Tells to the midnight moon her care--"
Ellisland Farm is only a few miles farther on the road, never to be
forgotten as the spot where "Tam-O'-Shanter" was written. The farm home
was built by Burns himself during what was probably the happiest period
of his life, and he wrote many verses that indicated his joyful
anticipation of life at Ellisland Farm. But alas, the "best laid plans
o' mice and men gang oft agley," and the personal experience of few men
has more strikingly proven the truth of the now famous lines than of
Robert Burns himself! Many old castles and magnificent mansions crown
the heights overlooking the river, but we caught only glimpses of some
of them, surrounded as they were by immense parks, closed to the public.
Every one of the older places underwent many and strange vicissitudes in
the long years of border warfare, and of them all, Drumlanrigh Castle,
founded in 1689, is perhaps the most imposing. For ten years its
builder, the first Earl of Queensbury, labored on the structure, only to
pass a single night in the completed building, never to revisit it, and
ending his days grieving over the fortune he had squandered on this
many-towered pile of gray stone.
We may not loiter along the Nithdale road, rich as it is in traditions
and relics of the past. Our progress through such a beautiful country
had been slow at the best, and a circular sign-board, bearing the
admonition, "Ten Miles Per Hour," posted at each of the numerous
villages on the way, was another deterrent upon undue haste. The
impression that lingers with us of these small Scotch villages is not a
pleasant one. Rows of low, gray-stone, slate-roofed cottages straggling
along a single street--generally narrow and crooked and extending for
distances depending on the size of the place--made up the average
village. Utterly unrelieved by the artistic touches of the English
cottages and without the bright dashes of color from flowers and vines,
with square, harsh lines and drab coloring everywhere, these Scotch
villages seemed bleak and comfortless. Many of them we passed through on
this road, among them Sandquhar, with its castle, once a strong and
lordly fortress but now in a deplorable state of neglect and decay, and
Mauchline, where Burns farmed and sang before he removed to Dumfries. It
was like passing into another country when we entered Ayr, which,
despite its age and the hoary traditions which cluster around it, is an
up-to-date appearing seaport of about thirty thousand people. It is a
thriving business town with an unusually good electric street-car
system, fine hotels and (not to be forgotten by motorists) excellent
garages and repair shops.
Ayr is one of the objective points of nearly every tourist who enters
Scotland. Its associations with Burns, his birthplace, Kirk Alloway, his
monument, the "Twa Brigs," the "Brig O' Doon," and the numerous other
places connected with his memory in Ayr and its vicinity, need not be
dwelt on here. An endless array of guide-books and other volumes will
give more information than the tourist can absorb and his motor car will
enable him to rapidly visit such places as he may choose. It will be of
little encumbrance to him, for he may leave the car standing at the
side of the street while he makes a tour of the haunts of Burns at
Alloway or elsewhere.
It was a gloomy day when we left Ayr over the fine highway leading to
Glasgow, but before we had gone very far it began to rain steadily. We
passed through Kilmarnock, the largest city in Ayrshire. Here a splendid
memorial to Burns has been erected, and connected with it is a museum of
relics associated with the poet, as well as copies of various editions
of his works. This reminds one that the first volume of poems by Burns
was published at Kilmarnock, and in the cottage at Ayr we saw one of the
three existing copies, which had been purchased for the collection at an
even thousand pounds.
We threaded our way carefully through Glasgow, for the rain, which was
coming down heavily, made the streets very slippery, and our car showed
more or less tendency to the dangerous "skid." Owing to former visits to
the city, we did not pause in Glasgow, though the fact is that no other
large city in Britain has less to interest the tourist. It is a great
commercial city, having gained in the last one hundred years three
quarters of a million inhabitants. Its public buildings, churches, and
other show-places--excepting the cathedral--lack the charm of antiquity.
After striking the Dumbarton road, exit from the city was easy, and for
a considerable distance we passed near the Clyde shipyards, the
greatest in the world, where many of the largest merchant and war
vessels have been constructed. Just as we entered Dumbarton, whose
castle loomed high on a rocky island opposite the town, the rain ceased
and the sky cleared with that changeful rapidity we noticed so often in
Britain. Certainly we were fortunate in having fine weather for the
remainder of the day, during which we passed perhaps as varied and
picturesque scenery as we found on our journey.
[Illustration: THE PATH BY THE LOCH.